Poetry for Children

I wrote this poem a year or so ago, when I began my Writing Stories for Children Course, at the New Zealand Institute of Business Studies. I reconnected with my childhood love, of writing in rhyme, and I longed to write stories and poetry, like my heroines Margaret Mahy and Lynley Dodds (Hairy Mclary from Donaldson's Dairy) and of course, the fabulous Dr Seuss. Perhaps I should have a separate blog for children's poems, once I get into the swing and rhythm of it. But for now, here is a poem, I wrote for children ... the first verse just seemed to 'spring out of nowhere,' the rest became a 'labour of love!'  Read it to your children and tell me it they like it. Please! I would love to see it illustrated, and bring the words to life.

Living in my Garden


Living in my garden is a little brown hare
If you watch and listen carefully, he doesn’t know you’re there.
He nibbles on the cabbages, bites holes in all the lettuces,
What a naughty hare he is, to dine upon our radishes.

Living in my garden is a shiny little snail,
And everywhere he goes, he leaves a slimy trail.
He slimes up on the garden wall, then slimes along the top,
Then pops his head into his shell when he wants to stop.

Living in my garden is a wriggly little worm,
If I touch him with my finger he makes me want to squirm,
I’d like to say hello, but I just can’t catch his eye,
Which end is which? I do not know,
So I let him wriggle by.

Living in my garden is a shaggy scarecrow,
He leans upon his rake, and is propped up with a hoe.
Every now and then, I stuff him full of hay,
It must be nice to be a scarecrow, just standing round all day. 


                                                          

Moon Rise

This is simply magic. I shall have to write a poem about it in the future.

 (Posted by: Carol Morris - New Zealand Institute of Business Studies.)

I thought you would and could appreciate this. (Mark Gee - Photographer)

It is a 3 minute video clip of the full moon rising over Wellington NZ. It was shot on a calm summer evening, as people gathered on the Mt. Victoria Lookout point to watch the moon rise.
This stunning video is one single real-time shot, with no manipulation whatsoever. The camera was placed on a hillside over 2 kilometres from the Lookout point, and was shot with the equivalent of a 1300mm lens.
The amount of planning, trial and error, and luck that went into this are mind blowing. He has been trying to capture this for over a year with many failed attempts. But 2 nights ago it seems everything was on his side, and it all came together in a way even he couldn't have hoped.
I honestly can't say enough good things about this video - from the magnitude of the visuals, to the intimate stories playing out with the people, to the sheer humbling nature of seeing the awe-inspiring reality of this giant rock in the sky that we so often don't stop to appreciate.

One thing I encourage you to do is watch this on the biggest screen you have - don't waste it on an iphone screen.
 

https://vimeo.com/58385453 (sound on...!)

'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.' Ode to a Grecian Urn - John Keats

 

What is a Poet?

In a discussion in Linkedin, the question arose .... How do you know you are a Poet?  There have been a number of diverse and inspiring answers - and during that discussion, inevitably, as poets do, we compared ourselves to various objects. One of these was 'a button,' and the other was 'a dandelion.' Now I am a poet in her infancy, but I love a challenge - so here are my responses to those comparisons ...

 

 

 

A poet is a dandelion

 

The dandelion
Sends out its seed
on parachute wings
drifting, noticing,
catching the breeze
a twirling fairy dance
spreading magic to
the Universe,
taking root amongst
us with confidence
and ease

 

 

 

 

The Poet and the Dandelion

A poet stood before a
dandelion and took note.
There you stand
Tall, defiant, golden yellow
A plant with Attitude.

I am no weed, Sir. I have purpose
a multitude of uses. Roast my roots
Indulge your coffee cravings
Though beware, I am caffeine free
Yet don't despair. You'll get the
full, fine throatiness of me
I can intoxicate you; delight you
Dandelion wine anyone? Root beer?
A garnish for your salad sandwich
a herbal remedy?

 

I can be bitter; an acquired taste
God knows I have my enemies
who wish to hack me down
or suck the life from me with
poisonus sprays and potions
Just do not touch me, for I
may cause you great irritation
Before you decide I am a pest
remember, bees delight in me
I am an early Northern feast

I tap deep down into the earth
a harbinger of goodness to all
shallow rooted plants (poor things)
who tremble in the stony soil;
release a gas to ripen fruit, you
so delight in eating.
Think twice before you snap off
my head, pull me out in rage -
out, out damn weed - I hate you

 

Why not delight in me? I spring
to life, where-ever you have been
release my seed to the whim
of the Universe; a fluffy parachute
captured by dancing children,
wished upon like a star, blown
to the four corners of the earth

 

a will-o-wisp, a fairy, a cotton ball
dent-de-lion, conker wort, milk witch
piss-a-bed (yes really!) Irish daisy,
face clock, swine's snout, dog's
lettuce - so many names,
so many pastimes; a threaded
necklace, a child's game - blow upon
my head and see if Daddy's bald

 

In Persia I am "gasedak," the small

postman; for I am the bringer of

good news, not bad.

So gaze upon me, Poet, take your

notes then sing my Praises; for I
like you, have purpose, a calling

 

 

I bow to the wind and listen
For the whisper of my name.

 

 

 

If I were a button


If I were a button,
What button should I be?
Perhaps a little pearly button
To show the magic side of me.

Maybe a chunky button
Which can’t quite fit the hole
No matter how you twist me
I’ll never fit the mould.

A bobbly little button
So frivolous and gay,
Alas you’ll lose me often
With your rough and tumble play.

Square or round or oblong,
Big or small or plain,
Snaking down your shirt front
Not one of me the same.

Or rattling in a button jar
With all my button friends
Waiting to be picked by you
To fasten your loose ends.

 

 

 

 

 

The importance of friendship

 

Poem for a friend.

 
“Cleanliness is next to Godliness,”
 they say.
I glare at my son’s underwear
and afraid of what I’ll find,
toss them aside
gaze toward the mountains,
iced in snow.
My spirit soars to the highest peak
And to my soul God speaks.

I tidy jumbled drawers,
sorting socks from shirts,
wondering why -
‘tis sure to be a tangled mess
tomorrow.
Yet there is  some joy
to be found 
in the neatly folded piles.

I wipe a tear from my eye,
Dab my finger in the dust
inch thick upon the dresser,
when suddenly ...

Released!

The tears fall quickly as if to quench
the thirst of neglected imitation pine,
desperate
for a tiny bit of fuss.

The ache deep in my soul
wells then fades,
swells again
pretence crumbling in the face
of such emotion.
 "Let me be," I cry,
I'm just picking up clothes
don't you see?

It's not the time to unmask truths,
to question who I am, who I should be.
A friend is all I need.

The phone is a lifeline in my hand
A virtual hug, a text smile
No judgement,  just let it go.
Tears are healing, let those trapped
emotions out a while.

But the tears stop
as fast as they began.
I lay my head upon my hands
and sigh.

Calm at last
I look toward the mountain peaks
Call my Spirit back to me - thank God,
No matter how far away He seems
His faith and love, to my heart, speaks.







 

A Call from God

This poem was inspired by Rick Warren, from the Saddleback Church's,  "What am I here for?" who believes our purpose in life is our 'calling from God.' And that when God calls - you 'don't hang up the phone, or put him on call waiting!'  Our 'Calling from God' is a plan for our life, that we are given before we are born. God cares for us and waits 'patiently' on the phone, until we answer his Call; and begin to serve our purpose, by sharing our gifts and giving back to God (or the Universe - my words!)




A Call from God.

"Hello, is it Me you’re looking for?"
Oops, excuse me for a minute …
Dropped the phone on the floor.
Still there? Oh good, sorry ‘bout that
I’m afraid these cell phone things
Get me in such a flap!

Now who did you say you were?
“God!” Really? I do beg your pardon
Um, should I call you … Sir?
Oh yes, I can see that would sound
A little weird, “Sir God!” Hmmm,
Sorry, I’m a bit nervous that’s all.

It’s not every day you get called,
by God. Oh, you’ve been holding
the phone since before I was born?
Wow, you must have a sore arm!
You’re joking! You’re on speaker phone,
The whole Universe can hear me?

Well, that’s a little embarrassing
I must say. What if I say the wrong
thing? But you’re God. You forgive.
What’s that? I can’t quite hear you
You’ve called me to tell me – what?
Hang on! Where’s the loudspeaker?

Phew!  That’s better. Can’t miss this call.
Can hear you loud and clear. God?
I’ll just pull up a chair before I fall.
You’ve been waiting, all eternity
For me to pick up the phone … but
you only just rang, didn’t you?

Oh, you mean that ringing in my ears
that’s bugged me all my life,
has been you, calling me, all along?
So sorry. I just didn’t know, thought
the buzz was the echo of a song.
Ah, I see. It was. Your song, the one
You wrote especially for me …

Well thanks, shall we dance along?
Ok, let’s get serious now, really
What is it you would like me to do
I mean, you’ve made a long distance
call here; it will cost you a fortune!
Oh – you don’t pay phone bills
You don’t expect me to, do ya?

Let’s get this over with, quick then!
What do you mean it’s time to answer
your Call. I just have, haven’t  I? No?
Oh you mean, doing something with
my life; something meaningful,
worthwhile. A bit of a tall order.
Don’t  I already do my job the best
way I can? Put in long hours?

 

Not that ‘job’ you say? A ‘vocation?’
My purpose in Life? My dreams?
That mysterious thing, that yearning
deep, deep inside. Piercing my heart?
I’ve been reluctant to answer that Call
Wasn’t really sure exactly what it was.

You mean it is You, tapping away at me
Reminding me to be true? True to you.
Serving your purpose, not mine? Oh I see.
I was afraid to answer because I thought
It was all about me, felt kind of lonely.
But it’s about You, still caring, still waiting.

About time, you say, to accept your Gift
And share it with others;  ACT on it,
Carry out Your Godly plan for Me.
Well okay. Seeing as you asked, why not?
I guess I’ve been waiting for this call
for a while. Been ringing in my ears,
Singing to my Soul.

 

Don't worry God.
I've made the connection now.
I'm not hanging up, any time soon!



I hope my friend Janis van de Laan doesn't mind me writing down her 'interpretation' of my poem, but I thought it was great and made me think about why I wrote this poem. Mostly I think, because the idea of God, or 'inspiration' calling, is potentially life changing, and to suggest that we have this inside us all the time - if only we would listen - means that anyone of us, can be creative and inspiring to others, if we believe it so. (Also, I apologise to God, for speaking a little 'cheekily' to him!)

Janis van der Laan (diastella1@gmail.com - for all your proof reading and editing needs - and a healthy dose of commensense, wisdom and kindness).

Isn't that the case? We get so busy getting on with life that we seem to forget it's about living, not strife. Sorry, an unintentional rhyme there. And at first you want to say, "Oh, I wouldn't dare be so rude to God if He were calling me, and interrupt him, and such." But then you think, that's exactly what we're doing every time we push to the backs of our minds any thoughts of allowing our creativity loose; of becoming a greater something; of surrendering to the shape we are meant to be, not conforming to the mould we think they would like us to be. We get so busy with all the humdrum stuff that bogs us down that we fail to see how we keep saying to God, "Not now, I'm busy!", although we don't realise that's what we're saying with our actions.

 

What is Truth?

(thank you to Das Menon for this beautiful image)


Truth is like a braided river
Springs from one life source
High in the mountains, swift
and forceful, cutting deep
into the bank, exposing
darkness to the light.
Polishing rough edges
Until round and smooth.

It diverges like tree roots
across the valley floor,
depositing thoughts, beliefs
like grains of sand - to
filter through your mind
or slip between your
fingers; noticed, yet not
judged.

Will you hold onto your
Truth with clenched fist
or let it flow freely,
to transform into other truths
until the water runs clear.

Can you trust, your Self -
to swim alone, mingling
from time to time, with
Other Souls, other Truths
converging, diverging,
making indivdual choices -
before meeting at the Ocean
Becoming One ... with God?

Questions for 'God'

There is a marvellous group on Linkedin called SKE, or Sharing Knowledge and Experience, where people from all walks of life, discuss issues that are important to them. One of these, started by Catherine Puglisi, asks, "If you could ask a question of God, what would it be?" This has started an avalanche of discussion, as you can imagine! My ultimate question for God, or the Universe, would be: What is my purpose in life, and how can I be of best use to help other people; and share my love.





(The Meaning of Life - thank you, to Wendy James; "Inspired Living Community")


I am hoping, that by sharing my poetry, and therefore, my journey into self, trying to make 'sense' of how I feel and what I believe, I am serving my purpose and making some kind of 'difference.'  One of the questions that crops up a lot, is, why is it necessary for all the suffering in the world? Why let it happen? A really difficult question, especially for those people who have had a lot of hurdles in life to overcome. I can only think, that with suffering, comes greater strength of character and belief in oneself. If life rolled along rosily, we would not have the ability to overcome adversity that can happen, out of the blue. And with that inner strength, we have a great foundation for faith and acceptance of what is yet to come in life, and 'after life.'

I wrote this poem, this morning, after participating in this discussion. I think it is asking how to have faith and belief, when you cannot 'see' God, or this invisible cord that connects us all; only 'feel' the presence of unconditional love. How do we hold on to that feeling, when things go wrong in our lives.


Forever, together.

If we were together,
would you let me
lay my head upon
your chest, and listen
to your heart beat,
Forever?

Would you brush
away my tears
and help me piece
together the tiny
fragments of my
dreams, to help
allay my fears?

If we were together,
Forever, would you
keep me filled, to
overflowing with your
love, so that my life
was never wasted, on
loneliness or despair?

And if we cannot
be together, Ever
On this earth of ours
Could you show me
how to keep you
close to my heart,
so I can feel you
there beside me.
Always.

Please?

Letting go of the Past

One of the hardest things to do it seems, is to let go of the Past, and just live for the Present. We spend so much precious time worrying about the future or feeling guilty about what is already done and dusted in our lives. What if we could just tear up the Past into little pieces, and scatter it to the winds. Just make sure the wind is in the right direction - you don't want it blowing back into your face! Perhaps it's best to simply burn it - no coming back that way! Or hang it on the washing line in a gale force wind and watch it fly!




Today’s the day, “Hooray, hooray”

I threw my Past far, far away.

I watched it blow this way and that,
Its day was done, no looking back.
How marvellous now it is to feel,
Light and free and full of zeal.

There’s nothing now I cannot do,
My burden’s gone – off it flew!
No more sorrow, doubt, or fear,
Nor all that guilt I once held 'dear.'

I emptied all my darkness out,
It tried to fight, it tried to shout,
My shadows got a hellish fright!
I filled the space with healing light.
 

When I'm tired and feeling low,
It might come back to say hello.
Perhaps I'll make a cup of tea,

Then say, 'Away - don't bother me.'

 

I do not wish to have you back,

For never do you cut me slack.
You have no love or care for me,
Be gone with you, let me be free.
 

Today's the day, "Hooray, Hooray"

I finally threw my Past away!

Authentically Me

 

How I long to truly be

authentically me;

safe in the knowledge that

faith and love

will set me free.

 

 

I am evolving every day:

thoughts beget thoughts

that pile up upon each other

until I silently scream

Enough. It is too much. Away!

Just let me dream.

 

 

One day I will discover

Who I am, what I believe

Then,

I will tug upon God's sleeve

and say, 'Hello'

Here I am, this is Me

thank-you for waiting

so patiently.

 

 

 

the magic of timelapse photography

http://vimeo.com/katkapruskova/flowerstimelapse

This came to my attention a while ago and I was mesmerised by it ... a beautiful video clip of flowers unfurling, thanks to timelapse photography. Very inspiring for a poet!

A summer's evening

Two of my young collies ran off one evening ... chasing rabbits. No amount of calling and whistling made a jot of difference! A dog with its nose focused on rabbit scent, hears nothing!  In the end I left them to it; came back an hour or so later and called again. I could hear excited barks in the distance, so I relaxed a bit, and stared for a while at the stars instead. A lovely evening to be out and about; so nice to see your dogs running free.






Rabbiters

The stars are out, the moon is full
Our dogs are lost upon the hill
Chasing rabbits here and there
Two young pups without a care.

They have no fear of man or gun
For them it’s just a bit of fun
But collies loose without control
Make a flock quite vulnerable.

I call and whistle, all in vain
Excited barks, the scent is plain
Nothing to do but wait and see
Til they come back, eventually.

The stars are out, the moon is full
A glorious evening, calm and still
My dogs know what is best for me
To watch them run and let them be.